Foleys Revenge
by Huntress1
Summary: Remember last December when Triple H made Tori spend the weekend with X-Pac? Well Foley's back, and he's got plans for Jericho and Steph... * Story setting changed *
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Nothing's changed. I still don't own anyone, even though I'm working on it. Think Vince takes I.O.U.'s?   
  
Authors Notes: This is set the night Shane bulldogged Y2J into the steel steps, causing him to hit Rock with the chair. Only difference is, Regal's out of the picture and Mick "the dick" Foley is the commissioner. As you can tell, I'm not one of his fans. Hunter is WWF champion, not rehabbing. He IS buddy buddy with Austin, and owns half the Alliance. Also, Stephanie is built a little more like Trish Stratus, this way she's petite (short) and a 6' Chris can seem threatening. I know, I'm strange. Just let me write my story, damn it!   
***   
  
"....Maybe you should knock it off right now." The Rock challenged Chris Jericho. Just then, Stephanie McMahon walked into the room. Both heads turned to look at her, hate in each one of their eyes.   
  
"Well if it isn't the WWF's biggest 'hero's'." Stephanie smirked.   
  
"Well if it isn't ECW's biggest ho." Jericho replied, while The Rock snickered.   
  
"You know, Jericho... I'm surprised your so cocky tonight, what with my brother *slamming* your face into those steel steps." Steph's smirk managed to get even more smug, and her eyes took on a malicious glint.   
  
"Well if anyone knows cocky, it'd be you!" Rocky and Jericho said together.   
  
Stephanie's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer to Jericho. Rock didn't move to defend him, but kept his eyes on her. Hell if he was gonna let the bitch get one up on the WWF. Steph put her hands on her hips and glared at Jericho, seemingly forgetting that Rock was even in the room.   
  
"You keep telling everyone what a slut I am, but you just never seem to be able to get anything from me." She taunted. Jericho raised his eyebrows, knowing exactly what 'anything' meant.   
  
"Your right Steph. I don't get anything from you. I get *everything* from you!" He gave her his Cheshire cat grin. "By the way, think you can pencil me in again for tonight? Or are you meeting Bubba down at the County Jail? No, he was Monday wasn't he?"   
  
Stephanie's eyes filled with tears of anger. She refused to let them spill, however. Rock winced as she pulled back and slapped Chris. The Ayatollah immediately jumped from his seat on the table and stood towering over her, a red palm print appearing on his face.   
  
Rock could sense the fear in her, but she wasn't going to back down. This would be good.   
Just then, Commissioner Mick Foley walked in, and by the I-know-something-you-don't-know smile on his face, he'd heard everything, and had something planned.   
  
"Wow Steph.. You seem very... "aggressive" with your hands tonight." Mick remarked. Jericho snickered and added, "Come to think of it, she was pretty good with them last night, too." Stephanie's ever present glare somehow managed to get even more dangerous.   
"Now calm down Steph. I have a proposition for you." Mick started. Noticing the slightly interested (but still suspicious) look on Stephanie's face, Chris just had to comment. "He said proposition, not position, Steph."   
  
She pulled back to slap him again, but Mick caught her hand.   
  
"Hold on there Princess, you might want to be nice to him." The new Commissioner warned.   
  
"And I would want to be nice to this.. this.. this ASS CLOWN because..?" Rock snickered at her use of one of Jericho's most famous lines.   
  
"BECAUSE, Steph, you might be stuck with him for awhile." At the utterly confused look on all three of their faces, Mick explained.   
  
"You see, Princess, I have a match going tonight. Chris Jericho VS. your husband, Triple H, for the World Title. If Hunter wins, Jericho can never insult you again. If he does, he's fired."   
  
Stephanie's glare turned to a big grin. She was about ready to hug him when Chris interrupted.   
  
"Wait a minute Junior, and what if I win?" Mick's smile widened and a devious glint came to his eyes.   
  
"If you win, Chris, you get to take the Billion Dollar Princess home with you for the weekend."   
  
Chris looked confused, presumably wondering WHY he'd want to take her home. Stephanie, however looked horrified.   
  
"WHAT?!" Not only did she look horrified, she looked like she was in shock... A very *angry* shock.   
  
Rock was in the Peoples hysterics, and Mick looked like not laughing was paining him. He turned casually to Steph.   
  
"I believe it was YOUR husband that ordered the very same match a year ago on Christmas?" He asked her. Suddenly she realized. Mick was paying her back for putting him out of business, and clearly he thought a weekend with Chris Jericho was the way to go about it.   
  
Stephanie glared at him, mentally reminding herself to kill her mother for hiring him. She knew she didn't really have a way out of this, so she decided to make SURE Hunter won.   
"Fine. Done. You got it. But your going to regret this. And it may just be the last match you ever make!" Steph hissed at him. She stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door as she went.   
  
Mick smiled at Chris. "Have fun this weekend, Y2J." He strolled out the door, whistling as he went.


	2. Pedigrees and Lionsaults

"God dammit Stephanie! I can tape my own fucking wrists!" Triple H roared to his wife. She had been getting in his way all morning. She was all snuggled against him when he woke up (which he hated), she was on the phone all afternoon, and God help her if she ever burnt the toast on his sandwich again.   
  
"Hunter! Calm the hell down! Your match is in 10 minutes! I'm TRYING to HELP!" She snapped. She returned his glare with all the iciness she could muster, but he still yelled. He always did. Damn business marriages.   
  
"I'm the WWF Champion! I beat the living hell out of people for a living, Steph, I think I can tape own wrists!" He wanted to be like that? Fine.   
  
"Whatever, Hunter." Her voice was strained, like she was trying to keep from screaming. "I'm going out for air."   
  
"Fine." He muttered, uninterested. He was sorely tempted to throw the match to get her out of his hair for a weekend, but he wasn't giving up his precious title to that baby faced pretty boy, Jericho.   
  
Stephanie wandered the halls, bored and slightly worried. What if Hunter lost the match? What if she had to spend the weekend with that.. that.. that bastard, Chris Jericho? She shuddered at the thought.   
  
Suddenly she bumped into something solid. At first she thought it was a wall, but it wasn't quite hard enough and was radiating a soft heat. It also smelled nice... She looked up, and into the annoyed yet slightly amused eyes of Chris Jericho.   
  
"Damn Steph, I know your looking forward to this weekend, but don't throw yourself at me yet!" He grinned. Instead of returning the sarcastic smile, she glared back at him icily.   
"This weekend? Whats this weekend? I have an appointment to get my nails done, and unless you plan on coming.." She let the sentence trail off, then picked it up again. "But I don't see why you'd pay such special attention to your hands. Oh, that's right, Your very CLOSE to them, aren't you?"   
  
Chris sighed, forgetting her little quirk of always trying to out do him with witty comebacks. She always failed, too. "Yeah Steph. Mine are my favorite, but don't feel bad. Yours do a pretty damn good job, too! It comes from YEARS of experience, right?"   
  
Before she could come back with a cutting remark, Foley walked up to them. "Hey guys! I see your making plans for this weekend. Well, your match is up next. Have fun, and good luck out there, Chris!" He strolled off.   
  
"Yeah, good luck. You'll need it." Steph hissed.   
  
~*~   
  
"Oh my gawd! Look at this carnage Y2J Chris Jericho and The Game are leaving in the ring!" JR yelled into the headset. "Ouch, Chris Jericho with a sidewalk sla- No! Triple H reverses it! Here's the pin! 1! 2! No! Chris Jericho gets the shoulder up!"   
  
Stephanie rolled her eyes and muttered sarcastically, "Spit a little more, JR."   
  
The comment went unnoticed by the announcer, and alongside everyone's favorite hypocrite Paul Heyman, he continued commentating.   
  
Stephanie dived out of the way as a muscular body came flying at her. For a minute she thought it was Chris, but one look at the buildup and bone structure told her it was her husband. She knelt beside him and stroked his hair, trying to coax him up. Out of the corner of her eye, The Billion Dollar Princess saw a body heading angrily towards her. Chris Jericho roughly grabbed her arm and shoved her out of the way. Dragging a nearly unconscious Triple H into the ring, he put him in the Walls of Jericho.   
  
Quickly as she could, Stephanie jumped up onto the apron, distracting the ref as her husband's hand pounded furiously onto the mat. Tossing The Game's legs aside, Chris stormed over to the apron and grabbed her by the hair. Flipping her into the ring, he let her land hard on her back. She cried out in pain, and satisfied, he returned to Triple H.   
  
"..And look at Chris Jericho go! There's the pin and One! Tw-- But no, Stephanie McMahon Helmsly breaks up the count with a low blow." JR yelled into the headset, covering anyone within 5 feet of him in slobber.   
  
With a hand still on the small of her back, Steph stood over a fallen Chris Jericho. She smirked evilly, and kicked him in the face with 3 inch stiletto heels. Suddenly, a grubby arm wrapped itself around her neck and dragged her out of the ring. Tossing her aside, a shabby, chubby figure hit Triple H in the back of the head with a chair.   
  
Jericho took advantage of Triple H's state of injury and hit a Lionsault. A figure brushed by Stephanie, and turned furiously to see who Chris's little friend was: Mick Foley.   
  
The next words brought tears to Steph's eyes: "Here is your winner and the NEW! World Wrestling Federation Champion.. Chris! Jericho!" 


	3. Arrival

"Put me DOWN! You can't do this to me! I'm Stephanie McMahon Helmsly, dammit! Let me GOOOO!" Stephanie yelled, furiously pounding on the Undertakers chest. The whole WWF locker room had come out to congratulate Chris on his victory, but it was the Brothers of Destruction who had spotted Steph trying to escape through the crowd. Since there was no way in hell Steph was going to go willingly, Undertaker had carried her out of the arena and to Chris's car. A weakened but still grinning Jericho followed on the shoulders of the Hardyz and Edge. Lita trailed along, happily smiling up at the new World Champion.   
  
"That belt looks great on you, Chris!" The redheaded knockout yelled up to him, over the chanting of Matt, Jeff, and Edge. "I'm the Ayatollah of Rock and Rolla! What doesn't look great on me?" He yelled back jokingly. Lita rolled her eyes good naturedly.  
  
Stephanie stopped yelling as Undertaker put her down in front of Chris's slick black Eclipse. She glared up at him, but quickly wiped it off as his own glare pierced her. The three WWFers let Chris slide off their shoulders. Tossing a smug look Stephanie's way, Chris took his newly gained belt off. To her shock, he placed it over her shoulder while he unlocked the car. "Hold that for a second, babe."   
  
Appalled at his nerve, Steph pushed the belt off her shoulder disgustedly. He raised an eyebrow at her, opening the car door.   
  
"Problem, princess?" Chris asked. Oh he was REALLY going to enjoy this weekend. Four days of tormenting the princess herself, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsly? Perfect.  
  
"Don't. Call. Me. Babe." She managed to get out through gritted teeth. Her chocolate brown eyes burned with hatred, and her hands were balled into fists so tight that not only were her knuckles white, but her whole hand looked like something out of a bad '60s version of Frosty the Snowman.   
  
"Whatever you say, honey." He grinned while everyone in the parking lot snickered. Steph shot him a death glare, but it went unnoticed.   
  
Lita gave Stephanie a smile that plainly said, " He's got the biggest ego you'll ever come across, but ya gotta love him." Stephanie raised an eyebrow. Lita and Chris sure seemed.. Close.  
  
"Come on Steph, I don't have all day." Turning around, Stephanie realized Chris was already in the car, smirking at her.   
  
With one last look at Lita, Stephanie reluctantly slipped into the seat.   
  
"See ya, guys!" Chris waved before peeling out and speeding off. Things like "Later, Champ!" and "See ya, Goldie!" followed them until they left the parking lot. Chris smiled and shook his head, not sparing Stephanie a glance. They drove in silence for awhile, and Chris pulled up to a Burger King drive-thru window. He rattled off a large order, then turned to Stephanie.   
  
"You want anything?" He asked, bored. "Surprised you asked. Just some fries and a coke." He rolled his eyes and ordered for her. They sat in silence until a gruff teenager brought them the order. Before Chris could drive away, the employee gave a surprised cry. "Your Chris Jericho and Stephanie McMahon! Could I have your autographs?!" Happy to be recognized, Stephanie signed her name in an elegant cursive, while Chris jotted his down quickly.   
  
"There ya go." Chris handed his over, and Steph passed hers to Chris. Their fingers brushed ever so slightly, and both looked up. For the first time, Stephanie noticed what clear blue eyes Chris had. In the mind of the Ayatollah, Chris was shocked at how baby soft her hands were.   
  
Instantaneously, both pulled away. A little embarrassed, Chris handed Stephanies autograph to the employee. Steph shifted her eyes away guiltily, and the zit faced teenager gave them a knowing look.  
  
"Thanks! By the way.. I loved tonight's show." He mentioned, and with a smile from Chris and a little wave from Stephanie, the two Sports Entertainers drove off.  
  
Stephanie sat with her hands in her lap, completely ignoring the food. Oh, Hunter was going to kill her. He lost his belt, and Lord knows what he thought was going to happen on this little 'sleepover'. Sighing loudly, she folded her arms across her chest . She could not WAIT to get this over with.   
  
Chris pulled the car into the lot of a hotel, a pretty high class one at that. Stephanie snorted.   
  
Getting out of the car, Chris got his luggage and started walking towards the lobby. Pausing for a second, he turned around and looked at Steph.   
  
"You can get your own stuff." He sneered, eyeing her two HUGE suitcases.   
  
"No problem." She tossed back nonchalantly. She easily picked up both items. He could tell they were heavy by the strain on her arms, but she showed no sign of struggling. At his shocked expression, Steph smirked.   
  
"I may be the Billion Dollar Princess, but that doesn't mean I don't work out just like everyone else." She walked on ahead of him, easily carrying the 10 pound each suitcases. He stared. An elderly gentleman opened the door for her, and she gave a gracious smile and walked in, tossing a glare at Chris. Just then the gentleman walked up to him and barked in a heavy Sicilian accent, "Making that poor girl carry her own suitcases, eh? Whats a matter with you?" He bopped Chris on the head with his cane and walked away grumbling about society's assholes.   
  
Chris stared back and forth from the gentlemans retreating figure and the door Stephanie had just disappeared into. "That was NOT supposed to happen!" 


End file.
